


Brief Encounter

by 09cityskylights



Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Flashback, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Leaving, M/M, Mickey/Ian - Freeform, don't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/09cityskylights/pseuds/09cityskylights
Summary: The thought of losing Ian terrified Mickey more than anything. Why couldn’t he just ask him to stay? Why was it so hard for him?The name is more relevant to the second half of this story which will be a separate post.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what happened with the Milkovich matriarch in the show so I'm making this up. For the story's flow only Mandy and Mickey are mentioned as the Milkovich siblings.

Mickey pulls the weight upwards and towards his body, feeling his bicep respond smoothly to the pressure. He hears someone at the front door, and Mandy must be answering because the knocking stops but she’s awfully quiet. 

“Who’s at the goddamn door?” he shouts. “It’s for me shithead!” Mandy shrieks back just as loud. Mickey gets up and leaves his room to look for himself, and he is surprised to see Ian standing in his front hallway, but pleased. 

“Hey” he says, a smile forming across his face. Ian doesn’t say anything; he seems subdued. “Up to four sets of twenty” Mickey offers proudly, raising the weight in his hand towards Ian, looking for some sign of approval. Ian still doesn’t say anything, he barely nods his head.

“Get in here I want to show you something. C’mon, come check it out” Mickey encourages, and he can’t help but smile being around Ian again. He leads the way to his room, hoping to pull Ian away for a conversation Mandy can’t hear. 

He gestures around his newly decorated room with his tattooed hand, and starts talking about his wife’s dislike for it, trying to fill the odd silence Ian is providing. It’s not like him to be this quiet. Mickey lights a cigarette.

“She’s working tomorrow night, why don’t we pick up where we left off? Figure if she’s gonna be out fucking dudes, why can’t I?” he ends his sentence with a chuckle, raising his brows slightly. Ian finally speaks, clearly, “No thanks”. “Hard to get is getting me hard Gallagher” Mickey says, raising an eyebrow teasingly. Ian shakes his head almost imperceptibly “I’m leaving town”.

Alright by Mickey, they will have plenty of other opportunities, “Is there a queer rights rally somewhere?” he jokes. “Army” Ian says. Mickey shakes his head, relieved “you gotta be eighteen”. Ian twirls his finger around a string from his coat, smiles slightly.

“Yeah I figured a way around that”. Mickey’s heart pounds more heavily in his chest. “You serious? You’re signing up, that’s a dumbass fucking move, how long?” he demands. “Four years, minimum” Ian answers, settling his dark unmoving eyes on Mickey. 

Mickey suddenly feels trapped, “What are you hoping I tell you not to go?” Mickey feels the lump in his throat turn his voice hoarse and he hates it. “Think I’m gonna chase after you like some bitch?”. 

*FLASHBACK*

Mickey wakes up from the sound with a start. He is four years old. A violent crash from downstairs seems to shake the house. He looks around in the darkness of his room with wide eyes, the only source of dim light coming from some discolored stars he and his mother had stuck to the ceiling months ago. He hears more shouting, and then the front door slamming shut. Mickey gets out of bed and walks especially quietly across the floor. He gently touches the doorknob of his bedroom door, but before he opens it, he hears someone coming up the stairs at a fast pace. 

He pauses, frozen. Hopes its not his dad. The person flies past his room and he hears dresser drawers being opened frantically. He peeks his head just outside his door and sees his mother in his parent’s room down the hallway, yanking a suitcase out from underneath her bed. Drawers are being pulled open and left that way, articles of clothing are being shoved into the suitcase haphazardly. 

“Mama?” Mickey is clutching his small stuffed dinosaur to his chest, has it in a death grip. He is used to his parents fights, but they still terrify him. Especially when his mom gets hurt. She barely looks up from her suitcase, and seems to be talking to herself, whispering about money and bus schedules, whispering about time. Mickey leans against her doorway, watches her silently through somber blue eyes. 

Her cheek is bright red from a recent impact, and underneath it a fading bruise is still visible. She is a lithe woman, of average height and a slight build. Dark flowing hair, beautiful blue eyes. Eyes like the sky. Eyes like Mickey’s, she’s told him. 

She finally forces the overstuffed suitcase shut and seems to notice Mickey. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly parted, obviously worried. She stretches out her arms and he eagerly runs into them. She gathers them into his arms, the only place in this house he has ever felt safe. 

She picks him up and balances him awkwardly on her hip, picks up her suitcase with the other hand. She heads to Mandy’s bedroom and gently pushes open the door. Mandy is still sleeping; the sound of a noisy fan in her room has kept her sleep from being disrupted. She looks at her daughter for a moment or so, and Mickey looks at his mother.  
“Take care of your sister” she finally says, her blue eyes void and empty looking. Mickey cocks his head, confused. “I always help take care of Mandy” he finally says, somewhat proudly. She nods, and still balancing Mickey on her hip heads down the stairs to the living room, then to the hallway by the front door. 

She sets Mickey and her suitcase down. Grabs her purple coat from the rack, pulls on her blue and white running shoes. “Mama” Mickey says again quietly, trying to catch her eyes. She is still looking around her like there is something there that Mickey doesn’t see.

“I can’t do this anymore” she eventually says, her voice deadened. She turns towards him again and Mickey reaches his arms out, ready for her to pick him up again but she grabs her suitcase instead, and opens the front door. Looks out into the night, where the wind is rolling through the streets and carrying along stray leaves.  
Mickey suddenly realizes that she is leaving, and she is not taking him with her. She hasn’t picked up his coat, or his shoes, and handed them to him. She hasn’t told him to get his sister and his things. They have done that before, more than once. Stayed at her sister’s place for a few days. Came back home when Terry came by to apologize and collect his family. 

Mickey’s mother heaves a sigh. “Mama don’t go” Mickey says, his blue eyes pleading, tears starting to pool in them. She takes a step outside of the house. “Mama don’t go!” he says more firmly, his hand gripped into a defiant fist by his side.

“He will never stop looking if we all go. Take care of your sister Mickey”, is all she says to him. She steps out into the night and before Mickey can rush outside after her she pulls the door shut. He reaches upwards but he can’t turn the knob, it’s too heavy. He bangs on the door, “Mama! Mama come back!” 

Silence. 

He runs around to the living room and pushes away the ripped lace curtain to look out the dirty window. He sees his mother walking up the street, away from the house. She never looks back. 

Mickey lets out a little sob, and looks down into his tiny hands. He doesn’t know what to do. 

He finally hears Mandy let out a wail upstairs, and runs up the stairs to her room. “Shh Mandy. It’s okay, I’m here” he pats his little sister with his shaking hand, makes himself smile at her. She quiets. She won’t remember this night.

He looks out her bedroom window at the street again, waiting to see his mom come back. She never does. 

*END FLASHBACK*

Ian starts to turn away from Mickey’s bedroom door, “I didn’t come here for you”. He was obviously done with this conversation. Mickey felt like everything was suddenly crashing down in front of him. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t beg for someone to stay, but his lips part anyways and out comes a shaky and solitary word. 

“Don’t”. 

He looks at Ian from across the room with burning eyes. “Don’t what?” Ian almost seems to have a slight smirk, like maybe he is enjoying seeing Mickey struggle. Or maybe he is just over it.

“Just…” Mickey’s voice falters, and he can’t get the words out. His mouth opens and then closes. He can't.

Ian makes a small unimpressed smile and when Mandy shows up, Ian turns away into the hallway with her. 

Mickey can’t hear what they are saying, the blood is rushing through his ears. And it doesn’t matter anyways. He sinks onto his bed, smoke signals rising from his cigarette. Tears are pricking dangerously at his eyes. He pushes his hands into them, trying to force them away. He doesn’t know what to do.


End file.
